


bravery under fire

by newisalwaysbetter



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Hostility, Caretaking, Carrying, F/M, Fever, Flynn is a mild asshole, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Manhandling, Sarcasm, Sickfic, set s1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newisalwaysbetter/pseuds/newisalwaysbetter
Summary: In which a feverish Lucy solicits the surgical skills of the Time Bandit.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	bravery under fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissCrazyWriter321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/gifts).



> Warnings for illness, canon-typical S1 dickery on Flynn’s part, guns, death mention, and mentions of injury and violence.

“Your girl’s here, boss.”

That statement’s only halfway true, but no more need be said.

Karl, long since visibly done with the intricacies of their tangling, leads him to the back door and then shrugs off, shaking his head.

A thousand surly arguments are boiling in his head as he opens the door to confront her–and stops short.

The night beyond the doorway is a dark wall of freezing rain, and in the dim light from inside the safehouse, Lucy Preston stands pressed against the wall, halfway under the pitiful awning. With hair and bloodied dress drenched to the bone, she looks even smaller than usual. She’s visibly wracked by cold shudders, and as the light falls over her face, he sees her eyes–huge, glassy, fevered, and full of dangerous desperation. 

She’s soaked, perfectly still, and pale as death. Against his will, Flynn’s heart lurches. 

“Lucy,” he says only, stiffly, and offers his arm. She won’t look at him as she stumbles forward, sagging with relief–one white, trembling hand fastens around his upper arm, and Flynn wraps his forearm behind her to keep her steady. The knobs of her spine stick out under his fingertips.

He wants to hold her. He wants to avenge her. He wants to burn this world to the ground.

Instead, he ducks his head to look into her eyes. “Who did this?”

_Click._

The hard, distinctive muzzle of a pistol presses into his abdomen. Panting, Lucy breathes, “You’re coming with me.”

He stares at her for a moment, unsure whether to be impressed, or angry, or concerned. Then he clocks her trembling lip, her white-knuckled hand, and her steely eyes, and pride wins out.

“Come in for a minute.” He glances up and down the alley. “I’ll get my coat.”

Flynn’s men give them funny looks while he shepherds her through the safehouse, into the little room he’s reserved for private use. There’s only a twinge of regret when, the second the door shuts behind them, he covers her mouth and twists the gun out of her hands.

He releases her, and Lucy darts away. “Sorry about that,” Flynn says without much conviction, and tucks the gun into his waistband. “I don’t deal well with betrayal; you know.” Lucy glares at him from a few yards away. It’s less convincing than her usual fire, given that she’s leaning on the wall to support herself. Flynn huffs. Although he’s itching to see her out of those wet clothes and safely under a blanket, she wouldn’t come to him for that. “What do you need?”

“Your help.” She’s sidling along the wall towards the door. Flynn idly moves a few steps, cutting her off without direct threat, and Lucy scowls. “Wyatt took a bullet. From _your_ men, I might add.”

“Talented at that, isn’t he?”

“Seventeeth-century medicine might be experiencing a revolution, but it’s not good enough to save him yet.” Her jaw tightens. “But you are.”

Flynn gives her a dry look that says everything. “Oh, I don’t know. Bleed him and give it a little mercury, he’ll be fine.” He’s drawing out the conversation, calculating how much longer she has on her feet…

“I need you to do it. For me.” Exhaustion and fever are getting the best of her, and the flash of desperation that crosses her face almost tempts him to give in.

“I _would_ do it for you.” Flynn clicks his tongue. “But not for him. You don’t need him, Lucy, you just don’t see that.”

“I need all of them,” she hisses. “ _You’re_ the one who doesn’t see it, but that’s–” She pauses to gasp, and swipes a hand over her clammy forehead. Flynn takes a cautious step forward, and she shies away. Her hands are fastened tight in her skirt, and she takes a deep, trembling breath. “I’ll give you anything.”

“Anything?” He cocks one eyebrow. “Careful with that. Don’t promise what you don’t have.”

“I won’t.” She’s not ready to trust him yet. “I won’t give you the _Lifeboat,_ or any life that isn’t mine.”

“Yours,” he asks, in more ways than one.

“Do whatever you want to me.” Her eyes flutter shut as she pants. “Kidnap me, lock me up, question me, get your revenge if you have to, but _save–him–first._ ” Those dark eyes open, and fasten on his face. “And you’ll do it right.”

Oh, he wants to obey this woman. He has, and he will, someday. 

But as she is now, he holds the power. She’s not begging, not really, but with her bloodstained hands, and wide dark eyes, and skirt in rags around her knees, she could be. An uncomfortable tightness, not unlike guilt, settles in his stomach. This can’t be how it’s meant to happen: Lucy Preston, pale as death and spotted with blood, begging his help through gritted teeth while watching him with unconcealed contempt.

Not to mention about to fall. “Come here.”

“Not until you promise me.” Her voice wobbles, shatters.

“Yes, fine, just–get over here.” He’s close enough to reach out and take her just as her knees give out. She’s ice on the skin and fire below it, fevered and freezing. Her fists curl into his shirt, and he knows she can’t stand alone.

It’s that practical consideration that makes him scoop her into his arms, nothing more.

He expects fighting, not for her to loop one wet arm around his shoulders and cling. She’s close enough now for him to speak softly. “Stay awake. I need you to guide me there.”

“Thass right.” She’s slurring now, as the fever overtakes her. “R’memberrr…you promised me.”

“That’s right.” He gets her arranged in his arms, and for a moment there is a flash of fury–she is so small, not a soldier, she does not deserve this–and then, knowing she will not hear him, he whispers. “Long before you even know.”


End file.
